#imprisoned for science | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

admrlthundrbolt · 2 months

Text

Emperor's New Clothes (Doc Ock x Chubby Reader)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dr. Otto Octavius had been called a mad man long before he fused himself with the DNA of a Cephalopod. But to think that they would lock him away and attempt to study him. It was an atrocity, although the new scientist could be just the soft escape he could have only hoped for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hey guys, I'm back at it again. I got reminded of how much I like Cephalopods while watching the new Auqamam recently. So who better to turn into a ottoman than Doc Ock himself.

Anyways I hope you enjoy.

---------------------------------------------------------

It had taken a long time to perfect his hypothesis, but in the end it was well worth it. To become one with the majestic Cephalopod. It was truly a dream, that the government soon turned into a nightmare.

The cell they stuffed him in could hardly be considered humane. On top of the limited water they supplied him with. They should be counting their days as closely as he was. As he chipped away at the cold surface, marking more days than he'd like to think of. He seethe at the thought of revenge and how sweet it would be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cringing as you sipped the burnt break room coffee, you sighed. It was one thing to deal with crappy coffee, but it was a whole other ordeal to be assigned to a dangerous criminal. A man who had experimented on himself. Then made a weapon to turn others into the same being. That was someone you honesty wanted to avoid.

But you were black listed to the worst jobs. This was one thing on the list of many horrible things the company had put you through. All because of an early career mistake. Whoever said let bygones be bygones had never worked for OSCORP.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eyes narrowing as he heard the sound of steps coming towards his cell. He slunk into a dark corner and prepared for the next session of prodding.

As you entered the room he was stunned for a moment. You weren't like the usual type lackey they sent to bother him. No, you were much softer. Even with the frown that had settled on your face. He couldn't help finding you enchanting.

This was the rare instance that he didn't question your lack of uniform. He had always found it odd that the people he had dealt with, thus far, didn't have any identifying information. But now as he observed how your clothing fit your body. He preferred the way his eyes could freely roam over you.

The feeling of eyes burning into you was unnerving. You had read the report for your new assignment. A scientist gone mad after splicing himself with the DNA of an Octopus. It was truly a pity, from his earlier research the man was a genius.

His fall from grace was also one of the many nails in the coffin of the former CEO of OSCORP's career. Norman Osborn was a bit to brazen of a figure head for the board to allow him to stay. If only you had known just what kind of company this would turn out to be, before signing the contract that is.

Facing the cell, your heart rate picked up. There was no one in sight. Although as you checked your tablet, you could see there was no sign of an escape. So you decided to try the diplomatic approach. “Hello Dr. Octavius. Would you like to join me for your biometrics this evening?” It did the trick, the man himself slipped out of the shadows. As he did you couldn't help but admire his commanding frame. His barrel chest and feathered hair were quite fetching. Paired with the strength his torso and tentacled bottom displayed, it was no wonder they thought to keep him locked up.

He gave you a smirk at the unusual greeting. Placing his hands against the separation between you. He took in your soft facial features. “Well you're certainly new. What did you have to do to get stuck with me?” He had meant it in jest. Though when a sour look passed over your expression, he realized he had hit a nerve.

“Here to do what I was assigned is all." Your tone had become more terse and professional.

It made him annoyed with himself. He had already made a bad first impression and you hadn't even began. So he stayed silent and followed your instructions.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Half stomping as you made your way into your home, you huffed. It wasn't enough to be assigned to a mad scientist. But to have him call you out on your first day with him. It made you want to rip your hair out.

Making your way into the kitchen, you made a soothing mug of warm tea. As you went to leave the room, you doubled back and threw a shot of whiskey in it. You rationalize that it was to calm your mind. Though it was really so you could focus on the burn.

It didn't seem to ward off thoughts of the doctor himself however. His large body, towering over you. Not in an overwhelming way. No, more of a show of strength. It was enough to send an unexpected shiver down your spin.

When his current condition was explained to you, you were under the expression that he would be frightening. But as you think back on his imposing image. You can't help the thought of what he could do with the body he possessed now. It would surely be impressive in battle…and other instances.

Shaking the thought from your mind. You decided a warm shower would be a good way to wash the day from your body. Still it seem the good doctor never quite left your imagination for the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next time you came to his cell, he made an effort to make pleasent conversation. “You look lovely today, Mrs….:

Hiding your face behind a clipboard. It was one thing to fantasize about the criminal you were assigned to. Yet another to hear such things this early in the day from the man himself. “Thank you Doctor. Actually it's Miss (L/N).”

Leaning against the cell, he smirked. It was a wonderful thing to know that you weren't attached, by marriage at least. “Does that mean that I have to guess for a first name then?”

Glancing up at him, it was your turn to smile. “Maybe if your a good boy I'll tell you later.” The satisfaction you got from the surprise on his face was more than you would admit.

Taking a bit to gather his thoughts, while also filing away that moment for later. He chuckled and gripped the seperater a bit tighter. Just another reason to hate this cage he was forced in. But it didn't hurt to have such tempting company.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He was growing concerned. You hadn't showed up to his cell today. You usually came just after breakfast. Yet here it was already lunch time and there was no sign of you.

As the attendant brought the tray to a slit in the cell, he said. “Where is Miss (L/N)?” He did know your first name now, after behaving enough as you put it. But letting this lacky know that wouldn't be a good idea.

They shrugged, trying to hide how unnerved he made them. “How should I know.” It only took a glance at the glowering Cecaelia for him to rethink that answer. “Look, last I heard one of the higher-ups called her to his office. That's it, I swear.” Then they scuttled away as quick as their legs would take them.

Leaving Otto with a sour feeling in his stomach.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frustration coursed through your veins. It was one thing to give you the shit jobs. But to accuse you of not even doing them properly. That was just adding insult to injury.

Opening the door to his containment area, you tried to real in your emotions. Until you came to the realization that he was the only person you felt comfortable with talking about this.

Hearing the door open, he became alert. Seeing it was you, his shoulder finally relaxed. Though as you faced him, he was taken aback by your expression. Anger, fatigue, frustration, relief; they were a mixture that made him unsure what to say. Thankfully you started the conversation.

“They are such assholes.” You didn't even pick up the clipboard. Just slumped against the wall separating the two of you. You make one mistake as a new employee and they hold it over your head for the rest of your career.” With a huff, you leaned your head back and gazed up at him. “Then I meet you, the best thing that ever came out of working for this place.” A soft smile slid onto your full face.

The adoration that was in that smile made his heart swell. Placing a hand against the wall, near you, he said. “That is a wonderful thing to hear darling.” He cherished the flush that colored your plush cheeks. But became confused as you frowned.

Looking away, you spoke in a faint whispered. Almost as if the next thing you were going to say was painful. “They say we've grown to close. They're going to reassign me by the end of the week.” You were surprised by the look of rage that took over his expression.

His tentacles lashed out at the wall between them. Though you weren't scared, even as a hairline crack appeared in one corner. You only sat there and allowed him to gather himself. “This is unacceptable, I won't stand for it.”

Shaking your head, a hollow laugh left your throat. “I don't have a choice. The moment I signed a contract with OSCORP, was the day I signed my life over to them.”

Eyes widening, he came to a realization. That was why they had never worn uniforms around him. He had visited OSCORP many times in the past. That was before they pushed his friend Norman Osborn out of his position as CEO. It all made sense now.

Slithering a tentacle through the tray slot, he wrapped it around your warm hand. “I will take care of this.”

Nodding, you hoped against hope. Enjoying what little time you may have left with him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Pacing in front of the door leading to his cell, your shoulders sagged. This was the last day you would spend with him. That you were allowed to at least. You would risk your job to see him again.

Stepping through the entrance, you tried to put on a brave face. Only to stop in your tracks as the door shut behind you. He was nowhere in sight. Panic set in, making your heart hammer in your chest. Had they taken him somewhere, were they hurting him.

Calling out his name, dread grew in the pit of your stomach. Rushing over to the release button, you slammed your palm against it. There had to be a sign of where he had to be. Scrambling into the cell and you searched frantically.

Only to stop as a chuckle rang out from thin air. An unoccupied corner of the room shimmered and revealed Otto. He had a smug look on his face as you brought your hands to your chest. “I didn't know you cared so much.”

Darting to him you smashed your fist into him. It wasn't enough to hurt him, but it help get your frustration out. It was probably the only thing keeping you from crying. “How could you even think that this would be funny.” Glaring up at him, you felt your anger melt away. This could be your last moments with the man you had grown feelings for. Before you could second guess yourself, you seal your lips against his. He took you into his embrace immediately. It was even better than you imagined.

Heavy breathe mingling, he gazed longingly at your soft flush face. Suddenly he took you into his arms, cradling you. He loved the feeling of your plush body upon him. Finding that you fit against him like a puzzle piece. His smile took on a more sinister quality. “Why don't we take this to a more comfortable location.”

Feeling him pull you closer, you settled fully in his grasp. If they thought you a bad employee, why not prove them right. Kissing him once again, you pulled back with a smirk. “Let's get out of here.”

Slipping away into the shadows, you couldn't help but revel in the chaos that followed in your wake.

#spiderman #chubby reader #doc ock #dr otto octavius #chubby reader x doc ock #alternate universe #flirting #science #human experimentation #imprisonment #abuse of authority #villain #switching sides

12 notes · View notes

dandelion-wings · 8 months

Text

Sometimes you have writing plans for the day pre-made, but then you wake up in the middle of the night from a wretched nightmare, can't fall back asleep, and end up twisting bits of the nightmare together with bits of canon to torment your blorbos with....

This is a very rough version of last night's 'can't get back to sleep' bedtime story, and I know what happens before and after and how it would go if I expanded it out (and @theabysscomeshome and I have spent today kicking around the sequel where Lisa and Kaeya actually reach Mondstadt XD), but I wanted something I could write in the two hours I was hanging out at the hospital this afternoon so I crunched it down into something that almost fit into that window. Maybe someday I will write the longer version (as if I need more WIPs), but hopefully this will exorcise the worst of the brainworms so I can actually work on the stuff I'd planned for the next week!

---

This is the third time Lisa has been left alone with Anatoli's most prized specimen.

She can't say she's developed a routine with him so soon, but he doesn't look surprised when she deactivates the shield around his cell and steps inside. Lisa reaches out, slow and careful, but all her care can't keep him from flinching when she touches the clasp of the shock-collar he's wearing. She keeps the static of her Electro Vision firmly tamped down so that at least she won't set it off as she takes it off him.

The shock-collar isn't supposed to keep him from talking, only from too-sudden movements. But it's tuned to its highest sensitivity, and she's seen it light up, crackling, when he cries out. She would go silent too if any exclamation ran that risk. Besides, no one on Anatoli's research team cares to listen to what he has to say.

He swallows a few times, his throat working, and looks up at her from under the loose fall of uncut bangs with his one remaining eye. His voice is small and hoarse and thick with suspicion as he asks, for the third time, "What do you want?"

"I have a question for you, Kaeya."

It's almost what she'd said the last two times, though she'd had many questions then. She knows his name (Kaeya Alberich; he'd looked at her warily as he gave the surname, as if he expected her to recognize it, and seemed almost disappointed when she didn't), and how long he'd been here (six years, by his best estimate), and how he'd come (he'd snuck onto a ship to Sumeru, looking for his family, and been caught in the desert by bandits who sold him on), and what, exactly, they've done to him (though there was only verifying what Anatoli's records already say). She knows that, whatever Anatoli says, the curse hasn't twisted his mind as it has his body. He's reacting exactly as any rational human would to the conditions he's lived under for the last six years.

Lisa would start biting people too, if they only ever touched her to cause her pain.

"Just one?" For all the suspicion, she can hear a thread of amusement in his voice.

"Just one, tonight." Lisa holds up a finger. "Wait a moment, though, sweetie. I have to do something first."

She steps back out of the cell, leaving the shield down, and takes what would look to any casual eye like a Canned Knowledge capsule out of her robes. It takes only a moment to sync with her Akasha Terminal; she waits for the double-chirp that confirms it's scanned her thoughts and is replicating them for the Terminal, then takes it off and sets it aside. If she's being monitored, the terminal will only pick up that she's still here, asking Kaeya the same set of questions she has the last two times she was trusted to supervise him.

Unless Lord Sangemah Bay has sold them a false bill of goods, or is cooperating with the matra. Lisa doubts the second, and has to simply trust the merchant's reputation on the first. They've certainly paid heavily for all she's sold them.

Once her terminal is, hopefully, disarmed, Lisa takes another of their purchases out and steps back into the cell. She sees Kaeya fix a wary gaze on the little device in her hand--shaped and sized almost like a terminal itself--and smiles at him as warmly as she can muster with her skin prickling with trepidation. She's very aware that she has her back to the door. Anyone who comes through will have a few seconds' advantage on her, and Lisa has no good excuse for what she's doing. None but a moral argument that Anatoli's team doesn't care to hear.

Cyrus had made it directly and passionately, to Anatoli and then to the Sage of Spantamad, and been turned away both times. Cyno had made it bureaucratically, filling out all the paperwork necessary to report a breach of academic ethics, and had seen it dismissed out of hand. By the Akademiya's ruling, Kaeya Alberich is a monster, not a human, and thus a designated test subject to be treated as Anatoli's team sees fit. He has the curse of Khaenri'ah, after all. It's active in him, manifested in his blackened and Cryo-lined right arm; that Anatoli's own records showed that he had triggered it deliberately in Kaeya's second year here didn't have any effect on the Darshan's decision.

Their options had been to take it all the way to the Six Great Sages, or to try another tack. The Six Great Sages, by a ruling of four to two, had determined that Cyno, in his youth, was a similar such test subject, and *he* didn't bear the curse of Khaenri'ah, nor elemental powers from the Abyss. None of them had expected that it would go any better in this particular case.

Lisa had already been slowly becoming disillusioned with the Akademiya. This was just the last nail in the coffin. She doesn't mind burning her whole career down behind her when she goes, and that's why she's here, late at night, holding the key that will deactivate the wards on Kaeya's cell.

"Kaeya, would you like to get out of here?"

"*Yes*," he says, in that low, hoarse voice, strained by desperation and a hope she can see him trying to restrain as his eye meets hers.

"Good. I will ask you not to do anything rash once I get them off of you. We don't want to set off the alarms."

Kaeya holds rigidly still as Lisa undoes the wards, one by one, that hold him physically restrained and his Abyssal powers in check. She can feel the cold rising off the stump of his right arm as she looses that ward, the Cryo veining it eager for release. It's the one she's tensest for, ready for him to lash out, senseless as it would be--he has no reason to trust her, and no reason to think her anything than another of her tormentors. She'd stood by and watched while they took what remained of the lower limb off to the elbow just two weeks go.

(She'd had to build trust. After Cyrus and Cyno's efforts, Anatoli was wise enough to be wary of her. Even after she'd repudiated Cyrus as too soft-hearted and said some truly horrible things about Cyno, it had taken time to convince him that she was truly breaking away from her academic clique. He hadn't let her start taking shifts supervising his specimens until after she'd managed to keep herself largely impassive through the collection of that particular 'tissue sample.'

If he'd known what she'd been fantasizing about at the time, he wouldn't have wanted her within a mile of his lab. Lisa has a perfect test designed for *his* pain tolerances, if the opportunity ever happens to arise.)

But he doesn't attack, as rigidly still when she'd finished as when she'd begun. For a moment Lisa wonders if the key had actually worked. Then he takes a deep breath, shivers all over, and lets it out. On the exhale, he rises smoothly to his feet.

"Robes," Lisa tells him, mostly so that he won't panic when she goes for the bag she'd brought with her tonight. Tossing the notes at the top aside--she won't need them anymore, and may Anatoli have whatever joy he may get from her careful records of Kaeya's answers--she holds out the bundle of fabric to him, then turns away.

The cold at her back puts a chill down her spine, but at least now she's looking at the door. She just has to trust that he'll maintain his restraint even with her back turned.

It seems to take a tortuously long time for him to get dressed, though Lisa has no intention of rushing him through something he hasn't been allowed to do since he was, by his own accounting, eleven. She doesn't look down at her jammed terminal or back over her shoulder at him. She watches the door and counts the seconds passing in her head.

Despite the tension of the wait, Kaeya finishes well within her time window. Lisa turns to see that she's guessed his size well. He still looks swamped in the robes, even though they end at his ankles, but that's an unavoidable consequence of the caloric pittance Anatoli budgets for him. At least it helps hide the missing end of the right arm.

She holds out her arm to him instead of reaching for his. Kaeya hesitates a moment, looking at her warily, then grasps her wrist with his left hand. His grip is far stronger than she'd expected for how few fingers he has left, almost bruisingly tight, but Lisa makes sure to keep smiling at him as she starts for the door.

The corridors of the lab are dark, barely lit. Anatoli's tight-fisted grip on mora will help them here. Lisa leads Kaeya through the turns in utter silence and a tingling aura of static and cold. She can't entirely suppress her Vision, jangling with both her own nerves and the close presence of Abyssal power, and she can't expect Kaeya to suppress his own abilities when control has only ever been imposed upon them from outside. That he's not giving her frostbite at the moment will have to be good enough.

Humid air hits them like a wet sheet across the face as they step out of the climate-controlled laboratory and into a summer night in Sumeru City. The heat damps the chill, the moisture the static, and Lisa sighs in something not quite relief. Kaeya gasps aloud, then flinches, going tense, no doubt anticipating the collar's buzz. Lisa turns to give him another smile.

In the next breath, he lets go of her and jerks away sideways, flinging himself down the path at a run. Lisa hisses under her breath and puts a hand to her Vision. It's her own fault; she should have expected that. But she can't let him get away.

Electro flashes at her throat, and a gleaming elemental barrier rises to his left as he careens down the street. His atrophied muscles are working in her favor, even with desperation driving him. He flinches away from the barrier and turns the other way, towards the rightward path. Lisa scrambles after him.

Just after he rounds the corner, she hears a grunt, and a yelp, and a crack of Electro. She comes around after him to find Cyno clutching him tight. Kaeya is limp in his grasp. It's his instinctive reaction to the shock-collar, which will keep reacting until he stops moving; Cyno's jolt must have felt just the same. The look on his face is one of open betrayal.

"Don't try that again," Cyno tells him, setting him back on his feet as Lisa approaches and holding him there until he takes his own weight. "If you run into any other matra, they would know you weren't a student, and you'd be lucky if they sensed the Abyss on you and killed you outright. It's more likely they would take you for a confused Elezear patient and return you straight to the Akademiya."

"And right back to Anatoli," Lisa adds. "Kaeya, this is Cyno. He's going to help us get out of the city."

"A *matra* is helping you steal a specimen?"

"A friend of mine," Lisa says, firmly, "is helping me get a badly injured young man away from those who injured him."

Kaeya gives her a dubious look, but doesn't argue further.

"Follow me," Cyno tells them, starting off down the side-street towards the darkness at its end. "We don't have much time if we're going to slip out between patrols."

Lisa holds her arm out to Kaeya again. He shakes his head, but starts after Cyno. She follows him, watching his increasingly heavy step. This is more exercise than he's been allowed for years, and their night has only just begun. Forcing contact, though, is only going to make him more nervous. There has to be a point at which he unleashes his Cryo in earnest, and she'd rather not push him to it.

Their path leads them through narrow gaps between buildings, alongside the brightwood stands behind them, and, eventually, out to the farmlands on the city's northern side. By the time they break out onto the slopes down to the river to its north, Kaeya is stumbling outright. This time, when Lisa offers him her arm, he takes it and leans into her a little. Lisa can feel him shaking through the robes.

"You're sure you're not going to get in trouble for this, cutie?" she asks Cyno. "You can't make General Mahamatra and reform the matra from within if you get accused of helping me out."

"There's a Kshahrewar scholar ready to swear that I've been drinking with him all night. If we'd run across a patrol and had to deal with them, there might have been trouble, but no one has any reason to guess that I noticed that hole in the schedule before you took advantage of it."

"Good."

As they reach the shore, a faint firefly-light glows just above the water. A literal fire-fly light; there's a handful in a jar, sitting at the feet of a young man in a canoe. Lisa can't make out much by that dim illumination, but he has long, pointed fox's ears, and she sees the whisking of a fluffy tail behind him.

"These are your passengers?" he asks Cyno, standing to look Lisa and Kaeya over.

Cyno nods, then turns to Lisa. "This is the Forest Ranger I told you about. He'll take you wherever you've chosen to go. Make sure to avoid Port Ormos. The matra there recently got an updated connection to the Akasha, and they'll know exactly what to look for before you can get there. But Caravan Ribat and Gandharva Ville are still on the old system and should be safe."

"Which way do you want to go, sweetie?" she asks, turning to Kaeya. "East or west?"

He jerks his head up and blinks at her as if coming out of a daze. Then he shakes his head. "Not back to the desert."

"East it is, then."

"Good," the ranger says. "I hate the desert. There's a mercenary and her company that I've heard good things about out that way, if you needed a trustworthy guide, but there's no guarantee you'd be able to hire her. It's not a good idea to go straight through Gandharva Ville, since we might be seen by other Forest Rangers, but I can take you past it and over the border to Lumberpick Valley in Liyue by myself."

"Thank you, cutie." Lisa gives him a warm smile, then turns to help Kaeya into the canoe.

He collapses onto the bench more than sits on it, and all the tension thrumming through him can't keep him from keeling over onto Lisa's shoulder once she sits down beside him. She puts an arm around him to steady him, but keeps her touch light so that he won't feel trapped. The ranger exchanges a wordless nod with Cyno, then pushes away from the bank.

They start off down the river, picking up speed as they go. Lisa yawns, giggles a little when Kaeya echoes it, and then giggles more when the ranger yawns, too, and grumbles under his breath about it. Settling more comfortably onto the seat as Kaeya grows heavier and heavier against her, Lisa looks up through the trees and the mist at the first gleam of light off in the east as they make their way towards the dawn.

#references here to medical experimentation and dismemberment (and imprisonment and dehumanization and- listen it's mad science)#also it's not how it ACTUALLY goes even in the longer version but all the same #i would like anyone here familiar with leverage to envision:#lisa standing up from a table where cyrus and cyno and tighnari are all gathered #and smiling at them as she says 'let's go steal a khaenri'ahan'#because that's been in my head all morning and i want to share #fic bits #goddamnit i STILL don't have a lisa-and-kaeya tag #lisa isn't lazy she's just efficient #kaeya is a bundle of knives behind a smile #test subject au

17 notes · View notes

canyouhearthelight · 3 months

Text

Machine is Perfect, but Flesh is Free Intermission

This chapter is longer than either of the previous two, and if I am correct, it is possibly longer than both combined. So hopefully that helps make up for the amount of technical things around dance that appear. For anyone who wants full context of what is going on: 1) the MC is dancing a deliberately more difficult variation of the Yuka Fukuda solo of Esmeralda.... which is already difficult enough. Every step happens on a beat, and there is not a lot of music for the piece and NO room for error, because the dancer has to kick a tambourine. Our MC is doing these kicks over their head rather than above it, which I think I have seen one dancer do only for the first portion. You can just search "Yuka Fukuda Esmeralda" to see the real one. 2) "The Fouettes" (fweh-tehs) refers to the Odette solo from Swan Lake. It is notoriously one of the most difficult passages to dance in ballet, and is also referred to as "The Thirty Two Fouettes". Spin spin spin, identically... it's exhausting, and it hurts. But if you have bionic legs and feel no pain when performing, you can imagine how boring it sounds. I swear I'm not disparaging the passage, but our MC experiences none of the things that make it hard. 3) There are two main versions of the fouette (the spin, not the passage), Italian and Russian. It actually takes less time to look up a video than listen to an explanation, and people have BIG opinions about which one is better.

All that said, thanks to @baelpenrose for making it through all these explanations the first time when I was writing it. On with the show!

For several weeks following my interrupted performance, I lived in the rehearsal studio with next to no contact from anyone except Urus and the doctor. Even M. Russo was banished from his place of power, and from the shouting I was barely able to hear through the door, he was incredibly displeased about the situation. Urus grumbled about having to bring me meals and throughout the newly added watching me while I ate. No more solid foods, only some perfectly nutritious and perfectly flavorless concoction with a texture between porridge and puree.

Two weeks into my seclusion, my surly warden finally slipped, just a bit. “Food like that for every meal, I would dive in front of the next bullet,” he muttered.

I coughed, startling him. Waving him off, I shook my head. “Bullet?” I gasped, trying to clear my throat.

He handed me a cup of water. “What about a bullet?”

The bowl of nutrients was set on my lap so I could turn my head and scowl at him. “The doctor said the bullet missed someone entirely the night I was brought here, and you just mentioned jumping in front of one now. I’m not deaf, no matter how much everyone likes to pretend I’m some windup doll. What bullet?” It was the most words I had ever spoken directly to him, and from the look on his face, I had caught him off guard.

“Someone tried to shoot you while you were performing,” he explained slowly. “With a gun.” One hand dropped to his hip where he kept his holstered.

“Me?” I blurted out in shock. “Why? I’m not important, just a toy. Not even a pet.” I pitched my voice up as far as I could. “ ‘Wind up the little ballerina, let them dance’.”

That earned a more familiar sneer. “Poor little pet, to be kept so expensively and lavishly that you don’t even need to walk anywhere for fear of bruising your feet.”

“Yes, my pretty little golden cage.” I lifted the bowl and swallowed the contents as quickly as I could, wincing as I refused to let it come back up. Gasping as I finished, I held it out. “I’ve eaten. Your punishment is done for now.”

He ignored me for several minutes, until my arm was burning and shaking. I refused to beg or acknowledge our standoff until the bowl was removed from my hand. As soon as I heard the door lock behind him, I let out a deep breath. Inhaling again and bracing myself, I slowly flexed my feet. Pain spiked up through me, but I grit my teeth and focused on breathing with every movement. The most recent treatments from Master Arik made it impossible for sweat to bead on my forehead, but my eyes and mouth felt feverish when I stopped for the water that was always within arms reach.

The memory of dancing - leaping, kicking, flying - warred with how quickly I was brought to exhaustion by the pain from something as simple as flexing my ankles and feet. Since M. Russo was not allowed in the studio while I was being kept here, there were no rehearsals and therefore no need for nerve blocks, leaving me in full pain with every movement of my legs. After another drink of water, my anger was burning hotter than my body. “Kick,” I commanded my legs. But only so fast, my teacher’s voice echoed in my mind as I strained against my own body to lift one leg, and to resist the urge to drop it.

“Again.” Breathe. My body could do this - had done this. Again and again. Only so fast, only so high, I reminded myself. Limits. When my eyes and mouth were hot again, I stopped for more water and to cool down. Another limit.

In the ten winters I could remember being here, I had been very aware of my situation, but Urus’s comments today had been the first time I realized that perhaps I was the only one other than Master Arik who was aware. Clearly, Urus thought I was a pampered thing - what if he did not realize what the injections were?

I worked persistently at my own mobility, and it seemed that every small success woke my mind even further. Where I had surrendered, been complacent to my existence of agony with brief rewards of relief when I behaved, now I was suspicious and curious of everything. I was increasingly aware of how long it was taking to secure my personal quarters, where the studio had taken only a day or so. Plots and accusations lurked in every corner of my mind that suddenly had light shining in them - why did the serving people never speak when they attended me before? Why was Urus assigned to me and me alone? Surely Arik had other trophies - why had I never seen or heard of them?

Instead of keeping time by the things done to me - baths, meals, rehearsals I was led to and from - I began marking time by what I could do. I could slowly kick my legs five hundred times in a row each before needing to stop for water. I could hold both feet in front of me for fifteen minutes at a time without assistance, ignoring the sharp electric razors spiking through them without a headache.

By the time I was released from my isolation in the studio, I could hold my knees to my chest with only the muscles in my legs and stomach for an astonishing five minutes. I had not dared to stand, but was contemplating the attempt when the locks on the entrance slammed open and Master Arik entered, accompanied by Urus and three other guards. My back was to the door and viewing glasses, but I still dropped my feet quickly to their rests in my chair before even his brisk step could come around to face me.

“It is a good day,” he started without preamble. “Full of good news. The man who tried to kill you has been executed, and your new quarters are finally ready.”

“Kill me?” I asked stupidly.

He waved my concern away. “Someone sent to hurt me by stealing you, once your value became known. Thankfully, you were not injured, but measures had to be taken.”

Was I so valuable that someone would kill me to hurt him? I doubted it, but he seemed quite certain, so I nodded along. “And new rooms?”

“And a new insurance policy,” he assured. “To reflect your new value.”

Urus nodded towards my bedding and personal effects before grabbing my chair. Mechanically, I followed the script that was ingrained in me. “And my parents?”

“Compensated to reflect your rising stock,” Arik responded. Where before I had only been concerned that my family was not starving, now I was suspicious that the answer was equally rote and mechanical to my question.

With that, our accustomed exchange had ended, and Master Arik was supervising my removal from the studio space, ignoring me again. I focused on keeping my features slack and dull, but this time I paid as close attention as possible to what was being said around me. I learned I was being taken to the second floor, not the third - apparently my quarters had been on the third floor. The studio, I found out, was on the fourth. Instead of the sloped corridors, I was to be taken by elevator, which was a luxury I had never been afforded, but was apparently more secure.

Despite my new rooms being further away, the journey was far shorter. The doors, like the ones on the rehearsal space, were keyed to the genetic pattern Master Arik’s doctors had placed in me. Only he, Urus, and the doctor could enter without an escort - and myself, obviously, but it was left unsaid that the idea of my leaving under my own power was laughable. The poor paper dancer could not walk, after all.

Once we entered, Arik turned with his arms extended, a smile on his face. “The walls have been reinforced, the windows filled and shuddered on the exterior with plates. To ensure your safety, obviously.” Leaning over, eyes cold, he flicked the end of my nose, his false grin never budging. “No need for cameras anymore. Any and all items and persons to enter and leave will be checked and accompanied by security.”

No windows. No more birds. No more clouds. A more secure cage than ever.

My face must have betrayed nothing that concerned him, as he stood and clapped his hands once. “Sleep tonight, and tomorrow you will perform.”

I shook my head, confused. “Perform? Not rehearse?”

He clucked his tongue. “You still need to complete your performance as Esmeralda. It will be in the studio, and only myself and M. Russo will be in attendance, but you will be recorded so that your stock can be valued. It is not ideal, but it will have to suffice. Currently, your value is contingent.”

“I understand, Master Arik,” I muttered numbly. I understood nothing, except that I had no say in the matter.

Striding to the door, he turned to Urus, who followed at his elbow. “Have dinner brought and have them bathed properly. They will be dressed here in the morning and brought to the studio for exhibition.”

—-

After a nearly sleepless night, I was roused from a fitful half-sleep by the lights in my quarters being turned on - no dawn noises, no slivers of sunrise, just a sudden bright pain stabbing through my eyelids. Groggily, I allowed myself to be washed again, shoved into my costume, makeup slathered on my face. My nerve blocks were not applied until after I heard the thud of the studio doors securing behind me, M. Russo pointing to my mark with his baton. Rather than listening for the warm ups of the orchestra, a recorded track was played as it had been in any rehearsal, although this time without M. Russo counting me off. Nonetheless, I stepped and kicked as intricately as I had intended to when it had been a theater of people watching rather than my teacher, my master, and who knew how many cameras. Each motion as controlled and flawless up close as it would have appeared from a balcony, each sounding of the tambourine measured and equal to the rest.

I finished, face impassive, without any applause. Instead, Master Arik drummed his fingers on his seat, head tipped to the side. “It is a beautiful and dangerous interpretation,” he frowned.

“It is a traditional one,” M. Russo responded carefully. “A difficult one, to demonstrate their skill.”

“A kick like that could kill a man.”

A gruff laugh followed. “Only by breaking his heart. The feet are too fragile for anything more. They can hardly walk without your permission.”

Arik nodded, but seemed distracted. “I will have the footage released for valuation. Uncut, I think.”

“To cut it is to imply imperfection. Release all of it. There are no flaws to hide.”

“We shall see.” Standing, Arik nodded again. “Russo. The fouettes next, I believe.” WIth that, he left.

No sooner had the door shut again than I was peeling out of my costume, inspecting my feet. M. Russo did not even pretend to look away - he made no secret that his interest in my body was perfunctory at best. “No blisters,” I reported, disgruntled.

“Mme Boulvais is much more careful than her predecessor,” he agreed. “And the softer shank made a difference. But shorter in the right shoe for the next performance, I think. You were barely over the box.”

“Those toes are shorter,” I agreed. “And the ankle bends further. But the fouettes?” I pinched my face.

M. Russo seemed to agree, tossing his hands in the air. “You can leap like a cat, you can kick as though you have no bones, but he wants you to twirl in place for heavens only know how long.”

“I can do them Russian,” I suggested, feeling more mischievous than I could recall feeling in my entire life.

He gripped his baton like a sword. “I will cane you from the top of your head to the soles of your feet if you do even a dozen Russian fouettes before my eyes. And then I will ask Master Arik to gouge them from my head so I may never see such a travesty again.”

I smiled softly, stretching deeply and grabbing my toes. “He said my Esmeralda was dangerous. That the kicks could kill a man.”

From behind, I heard my teacher scoff. “I would agree if you did not need medical magic to merely walk. A kick like that could break a man’s jaw at least, snap his neck at worst. But as you would never kick me like that, and cannot even stand to attempt it when you are elsewhere, it is a vain fear.”

I hummed, hoping he would take it in agreement. It seemed he had, as by the time I stood again, he had resumed his teaching posture. “Go ahead. Show me your fouette. Ten to the left, then ten to the right.”

Automatically and without music, I started. Traditionally, the passage Master Arik was requesting used identical turns to the right, but we rehearsed with both to err on the side of caution. Arik was known to add or change something at any time if he felt it was something new. By the end of the day, both of my calves stung from being struck to correct their height or how soon I did nor did not whip my leg out - M. Russo had not been joking about his insistence on Italian over Russian. As the weeks progressed, more and more turns were added, along with various surfaces for me to balance on for precision. A strange tool was brought to ensure that my legs were at exactly ninety degrees, a position I had to hold for as long as ten minutes at a time.

By nights, I was standing under my own trembling power for just as long.

Unlike in the past, rehearsals went on for nearly half a year. Increasing levels of difficulty were added, in theory to explain the time it was taking. In reality, I overheard my security discussing the increased measures to make Master Arik’s keep more and more secure, to make the performance hall doubly so. The idea made me feel melancholic rather than secure, and I avoided analyzing the feeling too hard with my newfound inquisitiveness. Most importantly, the next performance was intended to be ‘exclusive’ as an excuse to limit any chance at another incident, and all staff were undergoing intensive background screening and medical analysis. My own medical exams went on the same schedule as before.

After all, I wasn’t staff - I was property.

#machine flesh #original fiction #science fiction #original science fiction #traumatized characters #writeblr #original sci fi #writers on tumblr #cyberpunk #bio hacking #chronic pain #imprisonment

10 notes · View notes

theprofessionalpromptmaker · 10 months

Text

Person A is a god who got captured by humans and brought on a spaceship to a seemingly uninhabited planet, with the goal of using their powers to make it habitable to humans. But when an alien native to that planet, Person B, frees them, Person A joins their powers with the aliens living their prior to chase out the humans who tried to bend Person A and their powers to their will.

#mod poss #creative writing #writing prompt #writing #prompt #fanfic prompt #fanfiction prompt #story prompt #creative writing prompt #ficinsp #alternate universe #plots and prompts #god au #supernatural au #science fiction au #imprisoned au #alien au #planet au #spaceship au

9 notes · View notes

theoldandnewfirm · 2 years

Text

My brain's back burner energy is now dedicated to restructuring the plots of trollhunters/3 below/wizards and--ugh--ROTT to connect the three around the "Arcane Order are celestial beings that seeded life across the universe as an experiment and now want to end it because they think they failed" idea.

#so far ideas i have floating around are:#the order are actually survivors of long dead ancient civilizations #they're not gods but they're so far advanced they might as well be from our perspective #Akridion technology is built around what humans/trolls call magic #the difference is that Akridions have evolved far enough as a civilization to understand how that 'magic' works and make it a science #Heartstones terraform planets to suit the life that the Order wants to cultivate there #and also help sustain that life #which is why the Darklands went to hell when they destroyed their heartstone #the shadow realm is a graveyard for planets the order has already destroyed #It was NOT supposed to be accessible by anyone but the Order #Morgana finds it by accident (maybe she connects to the dying Heartstone of one the planets in the graveyard?)#the Order find her floating around in there after she's imprisoned by Claire #and they're VERY interested to learn that she figured out how to enter that space and control it #and that could set up her relationship with the Order for Wizards (which won't involve time travel)#that's all I have so far

4 notes · View notes

scienceroach · 2 months

Text

verses tag dump bc my stupid ass never did that

🧪 // v ; childhood / i was but a little lad ; my head filled with dreams of particle physics and candy 🧪 // v ; human / this handsome fella is doctor cockroach ph.d ; the most brilliant man in the world 🧪 // v ; post mutation / science doesn't have to be practical ; it has to be science 🧪 // v ; imprisonment / no monster has ever gotten out of here 🧪 // v ; movie / the only way to save the earth is to blow up the ship before the invasion starts 🧪 // v ; post movie / count me in too ! 🧪 // v ; city of the dead / welcome to the city of the dead where the lost are found 🧪 // v ; dance with the devil / don't you dare look at him in the eye as we dance with the devil tonight 🧪 // v ; world domination / they tell me i'm a god ; i'm lost in the facade 🧪 // v ; crossover / if i didn't have a cockroach head myself ; i'd be freaking out right now

#🧪 // v ; childhood / i was but a little lad ; my head filled with dreams of particle physics and candy #🧪 // v ; human / this handsome fella is doctor cockroach ph.d ; the most brilliant man in the world #🧪 // v ; post mutation / science doesn't have to be practical ; it has to be science #🧪 // v ; imprisonment / no monster has ever gotten out of here #🧪 // v ; movie / the only way to save the earth is to blow up the ship before the invasion starts #🧪 // v ; post movie / count me in too !#🧪 // v ; city of the dead / welcome to the city of the dead where the lost are found #🧪 // v ; dance with the devil / don't you dare look at him in the eye as we dance with the devil tonight #🧪 // v ; world domination / they tell me i'm a god ; i'm lost in the facade #🧪 // v ; crossover / if i didn't have a cockroach head myself ; i'd be freaking out right now

1 note · View note

qupritsuvwix · 9 months

Text

#henry lee #expert liar #forensic science #bullshit #fabricated evidence #false imprisonment #prosecutorial misconduct #lying police

0 notes

noxtivagus · 1 year

Text

i'll read "the tempest" soon i'm v excited 🫣

#🌙.rambles #got it last week yes ><#i read a bit but not yet of the actual play itself #these explanations n ykyk i forgot the term but the introduction n all #the tempest seems to have stuff on discovery n self-discovery #how strange life is.... but also how wonderful #discoveries as being human #how lives can be dramatically transformed ; with love n truth n #being 'imprisoned' w these limitations n being released from them #self-control n discipline of education to be masters of arts sciences people n ourselves #i'm very excited to read through its language n imagery #this intro says the sense of revelation is perhaps the key emotion #it has stuff on time too #ffxiv took inspo from this in shb #emet-selch n the ancients with amaurot n the tempest #full fathom five is the ost for the tempest area in-game #deffo took inspo from shakespeare #i'm rlly interested in all sorts of literature honestly #i miss reading so i'm really. yeah i'm really enthusiastic about this #i've always loved magic stuff n water n 'monsters' n realities of justice #magical n dreamlike in its tone ; this n the previous tag r some stuff ir ead from the back cover #it seems to have stuff on dreams n sleep too #i think i'll really enjoy the themes. i'll take it upon myself to understand as much as i can from this piece of literature m #i'm gna do my best wish me luck 😭💀

1 note · View note

bucketsofmonsters · 2 years

Text

In the Name of Science

cw: voyeurism, mutual masturbation, vaginal penetration, non human genitalia, knotting, size difference, fainting, chronic illness, implied animal death, medical abuse of the monsters

male werewolf x afab reader

word count: 9k

“Have you lost it? Absolutely not!” You snapped at the three scientists in front of you, the anger evident in your voice.

“You will have complete privacy and it’s not like we’re asking you to sleep with him…”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “Yeah, I certainly hope not! This is so absurd, I cannot believe you’re asking me this.”

You went to storm out of the room when one of the scientists who had sat you down to very gently talk to you grabbed your arm. “Listen, you are the only one he responds to. We wouldn’t ask you this if there was any other way to do it, if we want to study his reproductive system...”

“No! It’s invasive and weird and I’m not doing it! You put him through enough as it is.”

That seemed to spark their interest. “Hold on, are you saying no for his comfort or yours?”

That was a question you weren’t prepared to get into, at least not with three scientists. “It doesn’t matter. Anyways, I have shit to do, can I go now?”

They didn’t want to drop the matter but you were clearly not changing your mind so they let you storm out and go about your day.

You weren’t a scientist. Your job leaned closer to zoo keeper. Someone had to take care of all the monsters that were being studied here and the scientists certainly weren’t doing it.

They weren’t entirely wrong. Most of the creatures here responded better to you than anyone else but in all fairness, you were the one who was feeding them and talking to them, everyone else they saw on a regular basis spent most of their time poking at them and doing tests on them, of course they liked you the most.

With many of your monsters you were friends. You had developed truces of varying strengths with most of them and at the very least, you attempted to understand them. That’s more than most of the people who worked here could say.

They were all sentient, most to human levels, they deserved more respect than just being experiments and you seemed the only one inclined to give them that level of dignity.

Sometimes subjects would mysteriously drop off of your roster, nowhere to be seen. A few weeks later their room would be filled once more. You always prayed they couldn't sense that they weren't the first to live there, that creatures here didn't tend to have particularly long shelf lives. They were going through enough without that fear in them. The most you could do was give them all the dignity and companionship you could. You tried not to think about it too much but it haunted you all the same.

You had a favorite. Everyone knew it, him included. All he had was a number, subject 251. You would never call him that, call any of the subjects by their numbers. You opted instead for pet names and terms of endearment, which none of them seemed to mind.

This one in particular, subject 251, had taken a clear interest in you. That was how they saw it, a sudden and unexplainable attachment to you. You could have told them otherwise if they ever bothered to ask. But that was most of the problem you supposed, they never did.

He’d been an issue when you’d first arrived, the one monster you were warned about over and over again. ‘Be careful with 251.’ The idea of letting anyone get near him was so far from anyone’s minds. You were the newbie so you were given him on your roster.

You understood it. You too would be difficult if you were imprisoned and studied.

You’d given him what you could in terms of privacy and respect. You never tried to push, gave him as much autonomy as you were able to, despite him being a prisoner here. You spoke to him like a person, not an inconvenience or a rabid animal.

Most importantly, when he got angry or lashed out, none of that changed. Human decency was never something he had to earn, no matter how many times he threatened to slash your throat open.

Eventually, he started to talk back. At first you just thought it was because he was lonely, of course he would be when he was stuck in a room by himself, day in and day out. But after a while, it became clear that it wasn’t conversation just for the sake of it.

When more newbies came you refused to give him up, making as much space for him in your day as you could. You knew that he noticed the way you were staying longer and longer but he never called you on it. In fact, one day he asked you to stay.

After that you were inseparable. His attitude hadn’t shifted with anyone else but with you he was perfect. That became a bargaining chip, both of you swearing he’d behave better if you were allowed to give him his food in person, if you were allowed to stay longer, if he could have some little things to make his life easier.

The two of you had formed an alliance and more importantly, a friendship.

A few months ago you’d taken a vacation for a week and had been immediately called back because he’d become unmanageable. From what you’d heard, he almost ripped his temporary handler in half and managed to get halfway out of the facility before they were able to neutralize him.

When you came back you tried to explain to him that he couldn’t be doing this, that sometimes you might leave for a while and he needed to not massacre the staff. He was virulently against it, telling you he needed to keep his eye on you, to make sure you were okay.

No amount of reassurance stopped this instinct and just like that, you became vital personel. In his frenzy to get you back he gave you something else, job security.

That was why you could tell those scientist in no unclear terms to go fuck themseleves. But then again, your relationship with him was the reason they asked you about it at all.

You shook your head, trying to forget your discussion with them. You were glad you were there to shut them down, to be able to provide even a modicum of privacy to at least one of your creatures.

As you pushed the interaction out of your mind in favor of starting your day, you noticed someone you’d never seen before. She was a new keeper, one like yourself. You’d asked to be able to vet new employees but you’d been denied. Despite becoming vital personel, they still didn’t take you seriously.

She seemed nervous but in all fairness to her, it was probably her first day. Most people were a little on edge on the first day on any job, let alone one where you were caring for restless, angry creatures that could kill you in a heartbeat.

You gave her a wave before you picked up the big, metal box off the table, shifting it towards the metal door it was destined for.

“Hiya, what’s your name?” you called as you heaved the box over. Surely there was a less heavy mechanism you could use to deliver dinner, you’d have to pester the scientists about that when you got the chance. Everything in solid metal seemed like a great idea when you were planning but they didn’t have the carry the things.

“Sam,” she said, hurrying over to help you carry the box the last couple of feet before you both dropped it on the floor.

The second it touched the ground, something from inside rammed into the door, sending a crash echoing through the hall. As soon as Sam heard the noise she screamed and went running.

She wouldn’t last a week. The easily spooked ones never did.

This was why you wanted to help with finding new keepers. They never prepared them right, never asked the right questions. People got in with promises that they loved animals and that they were ever so caring as if that was in any way relevant.

What you really needed was to be good with people, really weird nonhuman people, and be very good at conflict resolution. You weren’t caring for lions and zebras, these were intelligent, terrifying creatures. It was hard to know exactly what kind of person would thrive here but it was easy to tell who wouldn’t be able to last.

You banged back on the door as you turned from the hallway Sam had gone running down. “Behave or you're not getting lunch,” you called through the wall and you hoped they’d understand.

You slid the metal box right up to the hatch at the bottom of the door, hooking them together so the room was still airtight, and slid the door of the trap upwards.

The faint sound of a bunny hopping across metal floors hit your ears and you shut both panels, unhooking the box and carrying it away as the creature was left to hunt.

That was mainly what you did, feed them with no contact allowed. They wouldn’t let you inside most of their rooms, you had to fight for the few that you did get to see. For most, you were lucky if you got to see them through a window.

Your favorite part of the day came last. It didn't previously but you’d had to push it to the end of the day lately because you were never sure when you’d be able to leave. He always tried to convince you to stay just a little longer and you rarely had the heart to shut him down, at least not the first time he asked.

Eventually you did always have to leave. You couldn’t stay in the sterile, white room lined with metal forever.

Before the decontamination chamber, there was a big observation room you had to pass through with a window facing into his cell and you could never quite help the massive smile that plastered itself across your face every day when you first laid eyes on him through the glass.

All of the blankets and pillows they’d given him were scrunched up in the corner, a little pile he was often laying on when you came in. Not today though. Today he was waiting by the door and as soon as he spotted you through that window his tail began to wag furiously.

You couldn’t help but giggle, eagerly running through the decontamination room so you could see him.

When you first laid eyes on him on your very first shift, you’d thought he was a werewolf. Most of the creatures here were hard to understand but a few were familiar concepts, things you’d seen the likes of before in movies.

The scientists had scoffed at you, told you he was nothing like a werewolf, he didn’t even have a human form. You still thought the comparison was apt.

He was undeniably wolf-like, covered in silver fur, with pointy ears and a muzzle and a big fluffy tail. There was something undeniably human about him too. He stood on two legs and spoke like a person and there was something in his eyes that felt so familiar.

“Hey buddy, how’re you doing?” you asked as you entered the room and were finally able to properly set eyes on that familiar face.

He couldn’t get too close. You both knew he couldn't or, despite the massive fit he would inevitably throw, they wouldn’t let you come back. You could see him holding himself back every time you came near him, clearly wanting to smother you in affection.

He responded quickly, eager to check in with you. “I’m fine. How are you feeling? Are you alright?”

No matter how many times you told him that you were fine he was always worried.

You brushed him off with a gentle, “I’m alright, like I always am,” while carrying his dinner in.

He mostly ate meat, although he was alright with not eating live animals, unlike many of the other creatures here. That was why you’d been allowed in here at all. No matter how well they got along with you, you were never allowed in the room with any of the active hunters.

It was probably for the best. At least that way they wouldn’t bond with you the way this one had.

You dropped the tray of raw steaks near his pile of blankets, his eyes tracking you as you moved. His head lifted and he sniffed the air.

“Still gotta take care of the others, bud,” you said, preempting the inevitable comment you knew he was going to make about your scent.

He grumbled. You knew he didn’t like it, them getting near you, the way he could smell the others on you, but there wasn’t much you could do about it. No matter how many times you decontaminated yourself, he always seemed to be able to smell it.

He dropped the issue, though you could tell he didn’t want to. Instead, his head fell to the side and he asked, “Are you upset about something?”

You were never sure how he managed to read you so well. He kept telling you it was because you were bonded but you weren’t certain what that meant. He didn’t seem capable of explaining it to you. The concept was just second nature to him and you couldn’t ask any of the scientists about it. Perhaps more accurately, you wouldn’t ask the scientists about it. You weren’t sure if they knew themselves and you’d die before giving them any more information than they already had.

“Did my scent tell you that?” you asked with a smile, trying to brush past it.

He was undeterred. “Did they do something to you?”

You waved off his concerns. “No, don’t worry about it, they just wanted me to do something weird and I can’t stop thinking about it.”

“What?”

You had no clue how to explain it to him.

You attempted to put it as tactfully as you possibly could. “They wanted me to… stimulate you. Just visually, I think, from the observation room. They want to study your reproductive system and they think that’s the best way to go about it for whatever reason. It’s super weird, I obviously said no so you don’t need to worry about it.”

“Stimulate me?”

“Like, touch myself or something. I don’t know, I didn’t give them the time of day so I’m a little foggy on the details. Not that it matters, it’s creepy either way.”

“They made you uncomfortable?” You could see him getting angrier.

“No! I meant creepy towards you! It’s invasive. I wouldn’t mind but I’m not the one being observed and documented.” That came out wrong. “Not that I wouldn’t mind!” you quickly added defensively. “That’s not what I meant! Just that I’m not the one who should be made uncomfortable by all this, you know?”

He seemed confused by your words, trying to parse their meaning. You couldn’t blame him, you’d turned into a bit of a mess for a while there. After a long deliberation he finally responded, “I don’t mind either.”

“What?”

“I’m observed either way, this way I get to see you.”

He’d always been direct but this was a bit much, even for him. “Are you saying you want me to do it?”

“Are you uncomfortable?”

“Not really.” Feeling a little shy right now, maybe, but you certainly weren’t uncomfortable.

“Then I want you to do it.”

You weren’t sure what to make of that. You had his permission now, so it was all on you. If you did do it, you certainly wouldn’t be doing it to help out the scientists. So why would you be doing it? Because he wanted you to? Or maybe you felt a tug towards saying yes for more selfish reasons.

“Your face is getting hot,” he noted, ever so helpful.

“Yup, that it is. Well, this has been a fun meeting, I will see you tomorrow bud.”

Now he was upset. “You just got here.”

“I’ll stay extra long tomorrow,” you promised. “I just got a headache and I need to go lie down for a while, I’ll see you later.”

You hadn’t completely been lying. You did have a headache, although that was more the norm these days.

You’d started to feel sick more and more frequently. You were convinced it was this place, with all the creatures and substances here that you knew little to nothing about. Being here so often couldn’t be good for you. You had no other explanation for why you felt so woozy all the time, why you couldn’t quite shake these headaches, why your legs sometimes just gave out on you.

Before you headed home and took a well earned painkiller, you stopped by one of the control rooms that always had a scientist or two milling around inside.

You poked your head in the door and just said, “I’ll do it,” not staying to witness the aftermath.

The next day you were a bundle of nerves. You probably looked like Sam had the day before. You felt like you were floating through your duties, thinking about the end of the day. That morning you’d been pulled aside by the same three scientists and told that today you’d have to slide subject 251’s meal under the door and then you were to stimulate him as best you could from behind the glass.

They’d reassured you dozens of times that there would be no record of your activities. Subject 251 got no such reassurances.

He lit up as he usually did the second he saw you but instead of decontaminating yourself and stepping inside, you slid the plate under the door.

“I can’t come in today,” you said as you walked up to the window, cursing the upset written all over his face.

“Why?” He searched your face, trying to understand. It didn’t take long before it clicked. “Oh. I won’t get near you, I know I’m not allowed to. Or hurt you, if that’s what they’re worried about.”

“I know you won’t, they just don’t trust you when your hormone levels are high. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“So you decided to do it?”

“As long as you're alright with it, I couldn’t see why not.”

You probably should have. Somewhere in you you were aware that most people would see why not, that this would be an insane decision. But the only barrier in your way had been his comfort and he seemed more than comfortable with the idea.

As much as you knew he was the one being investigated, you could help but feel like you were being studied under his unblinking gaze. His eyes refused to move anywhere else, content to just stare at you through the glass as you tried to figure out how to proceed.

You were the one to break the silence. “I’m not really sure how to do this, there isn’t exactly a manual for this sort of thing.”

“What do they want your goal to be?” he prompted you.

“To arouse you.” Those three words were the gist of it, despite the lengthy, boring mission statements you’d been given that morning.

“And what is your goal?”

That one was harder to answer. Maybe you should start writing mission statements for yourself as well. “I’m not sure.”

“But you’re here.”

And so you were.

“What do you want me to do?” Your chest felt tight as you asked, like you couldn’t quite manage to get enough oxygen. You’d meant the question genuinely but it felt like it came out sounding suggestive.

“Can I see you?”

You understood what he meant but you paused anyways. You didn’t know what you were waiting for, you’d made your decision the second you said you’d be here and yet, you still hesitated.

You checked the room for cameras again, making sure there were none. You knew there weren’t any and it honestly felt like you were stalling, trying to give yourself more time to think. Not that you could think properly right now.

He didn’t have the same luxury of knowing that he wasn’t being watched. The cameras pointed away from the window, positioned tactically so they didn’t look through but he was being fully captured, no matter where he stood.

Once you’d taken your moment and given yourself time to think that you hadn’t used, there was nothing left to do. As you started to get undressed, you rushed to take your clothes off. Anything slower felt like teasing and that was the last thing you wanted. You looked back to him when you’d finished pulling them off, not sure what for. You know exactly what he wanted to see next but you wanted to hear him say it.

His eyes roamed over you, they couldn’t seem to get enough, darting across your body.

You felt incredibly warm, despite your lack of clothes and the cold environment.

He was much closer to the glass now, practically pressed against it. You could tell exactly how slow and belabored his breathing was as it fogged the glass in front of you. You couldn’t help but let out a little laugh at the sight, him peering through the newly frosted glass.

His head cocked to the side at the sound. “Are you having fun torturing me?” he asked, his tone playful.

“I’m not torturing you,” you insisted. “You’re the one who wanted me to do this.”

“I said I want to see you.”

You hopped up on a chair, spreading your legs for him as you did. You knew he could see exactly how wet you were.

It was almost embarrassing, all you'd done was strip for him and you were already soaking.

Your onlooker didn’t seem to agree with that assessment, instead pressing up even closer to the glass, pawing at it.

You’d believed him when he said that if you were in there with him he wouldn’t touch you but you didn’t appreciate until now just how hard that probably would have been for him. Maybe the window separating you was a small mercy, although it certainly didn’t feel like that as you dipped your hand slowly down, becoming more comfortable with putting on a show for him, until you reached your center and pressed your fingers inside yourself.

You could see his nostrils flaring, wanting to be able to smell you but unable to.

The tip of his cock poked through his fur. That’s what they’d wanted to see, you supposed the scientists would be pleased.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of it, couldn’t stop imagining it inside you, how strong he was, how effortlessly he could pick you up and thrust inside you, how he’d fill you up so completely. You couldn’t even see the whole thing, much of it hidden within his thick fur, but you could tell it was big.

He wasn’t even touching himself, just staring at you, watching how your lips fell open and your forehead creased when you rubbed over your clit, listening to the little noises you let out despite your attempts to be quiet. You wanted nothing more than to go to him.

“I need to touch you,” he whined, sharing your sentiment.

“We can't, this is all we get.”

He huffed as he fell back, bucking forwards into the air against nothing, his desperation clear. You should be in there, helping him, but instead you were getting off watching him rutt into nothing

“This was a bad idea,” you said, your motions slowing as guilt washed over you.

“Don’t leave,” he pleaded. “Need you, just stay.”

His hand wrapped around his dick and you sped up your motions, set on at least putting on a good show for him.

He was rutting desperately into his hand, his eyes never leaving you. You thrust three fingers inside of yourself and still it didn’t feel like enough.

You were sure he felt much the same way and yet you could see him getting closer to his release.

You watched, entranced, as he came. Thick ropes of cum shot out of him all over the wall and the glass in front of him, his hand still tight around his cock.

As soon as he came you stopped, your fingers pulling out, refusing to come, like some sort of self inflicted punishment. He pushed up against the glass once more as you stopped but there was nothing he could do.

With no better options, you wiped your fingers as best you could on your clothes as you pulled them back on, promising yourself you’d wash them as soon as you left.

You rushed out before you had the chance to talk and regretted the decision the whole night. It had seemed like the easier option at the time, to not have to talk about it when all your conflicting feelings were swirling but now you just wished you’d gotten the chance to confirm that you hadn’t messed anything up.

The end of the day couldn’t come fast enough. You did your best to not rush through your duties, knowing exactly how costly a mistake could be in this place.

Finally, the time arrived and you were back in that observation room again. This time you mercifully were able to enter, no longer stuck behind that damn window.

He seemed as composed as ever and you got the feeling that he hadn’t been worrying the way you had. The thumping of his tail behind him gave away his excitement, as it always did, but you detected no signs of nervousness.

He studied you as you came in. “Something’s wrong,” he noted.

He always understood how you were feeling, he had some sort of sixth sense about it, but this time you were fairly certain that you weren’t difficult to read. You were sure you looked as worried as you felt. “Was it weird?” you asked, needing an answer as quickly as possible. “Please tell me I didn’t mess anything up between us.”

His head fell to the side. “Why would it be weird?”

“I don’t know, I think I feel like I helped them observe you.”

“They’re already observing me, why would it ruin our bond? Did you not want to?”

“No, just wanted to make sure I didn’t break anything.”

“You’re fine, we’re still intact.” He said it so plainly, like he was stating a fact.

It all seemed to come so easily to him, his biggest problem was being locked up in this place. Much of what he did seemed like it was based on instinct. There was less thinking required that way, it seemed nice.

He did, however, seem concerned about something. “You didn’t finish.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the sudden change in topic. “That wasn’t really the point.”

“That’s always the point, making each other feel good. That’s what mates do.”

You mulled the word over in your head. Mates. Is that what he meant when he talked about your bond? Is that what you were? It didn’t feel right, like it couldn’t be a title that belonged to you. Surely you hadn’t earned that as you kept him here, trapped against his will.

“What does that mean to you? Being mates?” you asked.

You were afraid of giving intel to the scientists running this place but you wanted so badly to understand what that word meant to him, what you meant to him.

As he spoke you started to feel woozy and your ever-present headache worsened. You leaned on the wall beside you as you tried to focus on his words. He reached out his arm to help you before quickly withdrawing it, remembering that he wasn't allowed to touch you or he could lose you.

The dizziness got worse, despite your attempt to take some of the strain on your legs and you went to sit on the floor. You went down faster than you’d intended, your legs giving way underneath you as the headache overtook you and you hit the floor hard.

When you woke up, your back was pressed to the wall and you were sitting on top of some blankets. The pile of blankets in the corner of the room, to be more specific. You were fairly sure you’d passed out across the room and you couldn’t help but wonder how you’d gotten over here.

As you cracked your eyes open, you saw subject 251 standing over you defensively. The food you’d brought him was still sitting at the end of the makeshift bed, completely untouched. That was odd, he normally ate it right after you left. Although, you supposed, you hadn’t quite managed to leave yet. Nonetheless, it did feel like a significant chunk of time had passed.

“Hey,” you said, your voice low and wavering from your bout of unconsciousness. “You keeping me safe, big guy?”

A rumble came from deep in his throat as he continued to stand over you protectively.

“What time is it,” you asked, trying to gather your bearings.

“You’ve been out for a few hours,” he informed you. “They’ve been trying to get to you.”

Shit. Of course they had. You’d passed out next to what they considered to be one of their most dangerous creatures, of course they’d been trying to get to you, to get you out of there.

As you tried to get up with a groan, he settled down next to you, pulling you back towards the blankets. You didn't try to fight him, knowing you didn’t have the strength to get up right now. You needed rest more than anything.

You quickly realized as you felt his warm fur next to you that this was the first time the two of you had ever touched one another.

He’d always been good at following your rules, even if he wasn’t particularly fond of the scientists, and thus he’s always kept his distance, just as you’d informed him he had to.

But now, after you’d collapsed, vulnerable, in front of him, you appeared to have found his limit in regards to following the rules.

The beep of the intercom sounded and you heard a monotone voice fill the room. “We understand this is a delicate situation and we trust your instincts on the matter, if you need any kind of aid we have teams ready to go. Our first priority is your safety, do you have a way out of the enclosure?”

Your safety? After a moment it hit you what they were implying.

“Don’t worry about me,” you called out. “I’m fine. If anything's going to kill me it’s whatever this damn lab has done to me, not this guy.”

The intercom beeped off but you knew they were still listening.

His gaze immediately turned to you, his face questioning. “What did you say? Is being here killing you?” he asked, his voice soft and measured.

You’d avoided mentioning it for so long, not wanting to worry him, but now you didn’t really have a choice. “I don’t think this place is good for me bud. To be honest if it weren’t for you I probably would have left ages ago but I just can’t stomach the idea of leaving you here alone.”

His head cocked to the side. “It’s… hurting you?”

A wry chuckle escaped you. “Well, something certainly is. People don’t typically faint for no reason.”

“Why are you here if it hurts you?”

“I can’t leave you behind, it’d break my heart.”

“You’re hurt because of me.”

“No!” you immediately replied, refusing to let him blame himself. “That’s not it, I want to stay.”

“But it hurts?”

“But it hurts,” you conceded.

You couldn’t stand to look at those sad eyes, opting instead to shut yours and snuggle into his warm side. “Listen, we can talk about this some other time, okay? Right now I’m just going to enjoy this.”

He nuzzled right back into you, immediately giving in to your actions. “Little mate.” he purred, curling around you protectively.

You didn’t have the heart to correct him. And maybe it wasn’t just for his sake. Maybe now, curled up, feeling safe and warm, you wanted to pretend you really were his little mate too.

You woke up to the sound of the intercom going off once again.

“He called you his mate,” it stated. “This isn’t an ideal scenario but we don’t know much about mates and you’re already in there and anything you might do would be extremely advantageous to our research.”

You groaned in annoyance as you leaned back into your warm, living blanket. His ears perked up as he tried to understand what they were saying. He looked to you for clarification. You were often the translator between them, the scientists always speaking in stilted language and hidden meanings that many of your creatures had a hard time parsing.

“They want me to have sex with you,” you clarified and immediately he hunched further over you.

“I won't let them see my little mate like that, no. Absolutely not, no no no.” The mere idea immediately worked him into a little frenzy, leaving him muttering to himself as he tried to shield you from the cameras.

Your hand rose to caress his face and he leaned into your touch, calming down again. It didn’t take long before he fell back into place, curling around you once more.

Being able to touch you seemed to bring out a whole other side to him. You’d never seen him this affectionate or possessive, something seemed to have been set off in him that hadn’t been before.

Something had changed within you as well. The idea of having to return to the way things were before made you feel sick, you wanted to be able to hold him and comfort him like this all the time. Now you knew what you were missing as you stood away from each other, unable to get close.

Even breaking the rules as you were, it couldn’t last forever. Eventually you could no longer ignore your growling stomach and you convinced him that you needed to leave, that you’d be back tomorrow.

He told you not to come.

Your heartbreak barely had the chance to set in before he was quickly elaborating, telling you again and again that he didn’t want you to stay if it was hurting you.

You brushed him off, at least that time.

A few weeks later, it was your last day of work you’d ever attend. Ever since that day when you’d fainted and subject 251 had stood guard over you, he’d been insistent upon you leaving. It was quite a change from the norm, he went from being the reason you were guaranteed a job here, why you didn’t want to leave and go home in the evenings, to being the thing pushing you out. You could tell it was eating him alive, the thought that you staying was hurting you. He was obsessively insistent that you leave and get yourself to safety.

You’d never been good at saying no to that face.

So, after agonizing over the decision, awash with guilt, you turned in your two weeks notice.

You were selfish about it. You didn’t tell him for a while, wanting to pretend that everything was fine for just a bit longer.

You let it go on longer than you should have.

It was your last day here, the last time you’d ever see him, and he had no idea.

You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry, for his sake more than yours, but you kept finding yourself tearing up no matter how hard you tried.

As you opened the door to the observation room and headed through decontamination, your stomach dropped.

He wasn’t excited this time.

He didn’t say anything. He just looked down at you, not asking if something was wrong as you’d become so accustomed to him doing. He didn’t have to

You didn’t speak for fear of immediately bursting into tears and eventually he spoke for the both of you.

“You aren’t coming back.”

You buried your face in your hands, trying to make sure he didn’t see you like this. You wanted his last memory of you to be better than this, to give him something more solid to hold onto.

The best you could manage was poorly stifled tears.

All you wanted was to hug him. To lurch forwards and wrap your arms around him and never let go.

But you couldn’t. If you did, you weren’t the one who would be punished. You couldn’t do that to him.

You spent the rest of the day just sitting there, existing in one another’s presence. Trying to soak one another in before it was too late.

You didn’t speak. There was little to say that wasn’t understood between you. You finally got it, that last day. You felt the pull of his grief on the other end of your bond, something connecting you.

You weren’t sure if it was something undefinable and otherworldly or just complete understanding of one another but either way, it was real.

As you stood up to leave you searched for something, anything you could say to make all of this right.

“You know I love you, don’t you?” you asked. It was the most important thing in the world to you right now, you just needed to make sure.

“Of course I do.”

And then you left your mate behind.

Nothing felt real after that. You knew you couldn't stay there but the idea of there being an after hadn’t really occurred to you.

What were you supposed to do now? Just live knowing he was out there, alone? You couldn’t make sense of anything, the whole world seemed muted and suffocating.

An alarm blared suddenly overhead, making you jump. It wasn’t an uncommon experience. Most of the creatures here were difficult to hold, whether it was because of inhuman strength or an unusual viscosity or any other number of oddities they held. It wasn’t your problem anymore, you thought as you gathered your things, trying to get near an exit so as soon as the lockdown cut out you’d be able to leave.

You wanted to get home and wallow, to mourn the loss of this place, of your friend.

You were more careless than you should have been. Normally you were tactful and moved with intention but not this time, this time you just wanted to get out. That was your mistake.

Something massive and vaguely reptilian came smashing around the corner, immediately setting its sights on you. You could tell it was in a frenzy, that it was out for blood after breaking out of its hellscape of a prison.

You couldn’t blame it, even as it came barreling towards you to rip it in two. It wasn’t the creature's fault, you wouldn’t blame it.

It never made it all the way down the hallway. Instead its scaly feet came to a screeching halt as a wall of fur blocked its path, growling at the creature. It clearly didn’t want to test its luck and went barrelling down the hallway in the other direction, looking for easier prey to take out its wrath on.

Subject 251 turned and made eye contact with you, looking uncertain. He used to break out frequently, he’d taken out plenty of humans when he had, but since you’d formed your little truce he’d stayed put for you.

You wondered if his breakout this time had been because he could somehow sense you were in danger or because you were leaving and he no longer had anything to keep him where he was.

It didn’t matter. At the end of the day there he was, in front of you. You had a decision to make. One look at that big, eager face and you instantly knew it wouldn’t be a hard one.

You reached out towards him and he instantly came to you.

As many times as there were breakouts, the creatures rarely made it outside the facility but then again, they also rarely had the facility’s star employee at their side with nothing to lose.

“I think I can get you out, do you want to go?” Your words were frantic. You needed to move quickly if you wanted to have any chance to get out of there.

He didn’t even have to think about his response, nodding eagerly and trailing behind you the second you took off.

The alarms were still blaring overhead, screeching and causing your ears to ring. You knew exactly which doors would have the least guarding, especially in the middle of a breakout.

You knew all the override codes and quickly ushered him through doors that otherwise would have been deadlocked.

As you headed out the last doorway you ran straight into a scientist, one you’d seen in passing before.

He was clearly already panicked from the breakout, the sight of a massive werewolf standing behind you was probably not helping matters.

“You’re going to want to let us through,” you informed him.

Behind you, the monster that they’d kept imprisoned for so many years snarled and the man looked like he might drop dead from fear, quickly sidling up to the wall and getting as far out of your way as possible.

You’d never been so grateful that you lived a short walk from the lab. You had no idea how you would have gotten the two of you home if you’d needed to drive. Eventually it would prove to be a problem, when they inevitably came for him, but that was an issue for another day.

He ducked his head to get inside, taking in your home before quickly moving towards your bed and stripping it of all its blankets, instead opting to make a little nest out of them on your floor.

You couldn’t bring yourself to stop him. You could give up your bed for a little while, he’d more than earned some comfort after everything he’d been put through.

Before you even realized what was happening, you were being pulled into the small pile of pillows and blankets beside him.

The warm comfort of him by your side was more than welcome. You’d been dreading the idea of coming home to a cold, lonely house all day, knowing you’d lost your best friend. Your mate.

Having him here was all you could ever ask for.

“They’re going to come after you, you know,” you informed him, the thought endlessly circling your mind, refusing to die down.

He seemed to misunderstand your concern for him as worry for your own safety as he pulled you into his side protectively. “I won’t let them get you.”

You quickly succumbed to the closeness, cuddling into him in the little nest. “As long as you don’t let them get you either.”

You felt a rumble run through his chest and you couldn’t tell if it was in acknowledgement of your words or if he was amused that you thought you even had to ask.

He started rearranging the blankets around you, making sure you were comfortable before fully setting in, manhandling you around as he sorted things out. Finally, as he settled, you ended up basically in his lap.

Then you felt his tongue lap over your shoulder, him readjusting you to best be able to lick you.

“What’re you doing?” you asked with a giggle, partly at the situation and partly because he was tickling you.

“Grooming you,” he said before getting back to work, his tongue slowly lapping over your arm.

You let him carry on with his work, trying your best not to focus on it. He was just trying to clean you, it wasn’t a big deal.

Still, the endless sensation of his tongue roving your body sent sparks of arousal through you.

You heard him sniff the air and your face immediately warmed, knowing you’d been caught.

“Couldn’t smell it through the glass,” he said, nose burying itself in your hair, as if he couldn’t get close enough to you and your scent.

“Couldn’t feel you through the glass either,” you murmured, pushing back into him.

He started slowly pulling your clothes off but the grooming didn’t cease. He needed more skin to skin contact, removing the inconvenient barriers in his way. He worked slowly, drawing this out as long as possible. You could only guess he was attempting to torture you. His tongue was pressed against your bare skin, roving leisurely across your newly exposed chest and stomach. You could feel his hardening dick start to poke into you but he just kept licking.

Eventually you grew impatient, your hand wandering down to grab his cock. It was hot and bigger than you thought it would be, its size disguised by his thick fur. He thrusted into your hand, a whine escaping him.

Your impatience proved to be a success as he wrapped his hands around your waist and lifted you. His hands almost completely encircled your midsection as he moved you effortlessly over his dick.

His claws were digging into your sides as he positioned you, looking to you for permission.

You nodded and you felt the tip of his dick press against you as he pushed you down onto it. He moved slowly, giving you time to adjust as he pressed into you, stretching you open.

Finally, you felt your thighs meet his fur, straddling his waist with his hands still wrapped around you.

He was everything your fingers could never be. You’d never felt so full and beautifully stretched in your life.

You attempted to ride him, lifting up as best you could, but he was too big, it was too difficult to do. It didn’t take long for him to pull you back down anyways, his hands never straying from your sides.

“It's my turn this time. And I promise you, this time you will come.”

He lifted you once more, thrusting you swiftly back down. You could see the bump it caused in your lower stomach when he thrusted all the way in. You barely had time to look at it before you were being lifted once more.

“Touch yourself,” he said, his movements never faltering.

You shifted to rub your clit as best you could as he pumped you up and down his shaft, using you like a toy. You had no control over the pace, being moved at his whim.

The loss of control was exhilarating. The sharp movements inside you touched places you hadn’t even known existed, places you’d never be able to reach on your own.

He was dead focused on you, intent on keeping his promise. Every time he did anything that drew a pleasured cry from you he’d chase after it, finding everything that made you tick.

“Let go for me, please,” he said, thrusting incessantly into you at the perfect angle, everything rapidly becoming overwhelming. Part of you wanted to stop touching yourself to lessen some of the all consuming stimulus but more of you wanted to be good for him, to do everything he asked.

You were too far gone to respond to his plea, your head thrown back as all the pent up energy that you’d been ignoring for so long was released. He pumped you up and down his shaft as you touched yourself, guiding you through your orgasm.

As you came down from your high, your eyes opened to meet his watching your face intently.

“Can you keep going?” he asked, holding you up so only the tip of his throbbing dick was inside you.

“Please, I need you, want you to come,” you begged.

He mercilessly thrusted you down again, now only concerned with his own pleasure. He chased his orgasm and you completely surrendered control, letting him move you as he pleased, do whatever he needed to in order to come.

“You’re so soft, so tight, so perfect.” He started rambling, sounding like he barely knew he was speaking. “Wanted this for so long, to touch you. Dreamed about this.”

“Me too,” you gasped out, his pace still relentless. “I wanted you so badly.”

His breaths were coming faster and faster and he quickly asked, “Where should I…”

You didn’t even let him finish. “Inside”

He buried himself fully inside and you could feel the base of it swelling just inside your entrance, holding you two together as he filled you. He whined and grunted and held you as close as he could as the sticky fluid flooded your insides

“You’re going to be stuck like this for a while,” he said as he came down, still cradling you close to him and almost sounding sheepish.

“Good, I like how you fill me up.”

The words pulled a soft, instinctual thrust from him and you both whined at how sensitive you were.

“Stop flirting,” he hissed into your hair, hands resting on your hips, keeping the both of you from moving.

“For now,” you conceded.

“Thank you,” he said, his hands roving over your form, claws lightly being drawn over your skin, raising goosebumps in their wake.

“For what?”

“For everything. For saving me.”

“The breakout was mostly you bud, I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

His grip on you tightened, like he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers despite the fact that you were tied together and you couldn’t go anywhere even if you wanted to.

But of course you didn’t want to. If you had anything to say about it, you wouldn’t be leaving him for a long long time.

You didn’t know how you were going to move forwards, where you’d take him, how any of this would play out. Maybe they wouldn’t want to chase him down, it being a hazard to try and catch a creature that had been such an issue even when they were holding him in their specialized facility. Maybe it’d take years for them to give up. Maybe they’d never stop chasing him and you’d have to keep running and fighting for the rest of your lives. Maybe they’d catch you and all this work would have been for nothing.

But it wasn’t nothing, you thought, wrapped up in his arms in the little nest of blankets he’d built for you on your floor, no looming goodbyes or rules against touching, no more being alone. Whatever happened, it was already worth it.

#terato #terato writing #monster x reader #werewolf x reader #monster bf #monster boyfriend #monster x human #werewolf x human #werewolf boyfriend #werewolf bf #I almost made this angsty but I didn't have the heart for it #my writing is guaranteed happy endings bc I'm a big sap #I keep writing werewolves that are just like perma werewolves with no human form #and I always feel weird calling them werewolves but idk what else to call them lol #werewolf-adjacent monster

8K notes · View notes

fatehbaz · 8 months

Text

This April [2021], the Iowa Department of Corrections issued a ban on charities, family members, and other outside parties donating books to prisoners. Under the state’s new guidelines, incarcerated people can get books only from a handful of “approved vendors.” Used books are prohibited altogether [...].

In 2018, the Michigan prison system introduced an almost identical set of rules, and Ohio, Pennsylvania, and Washington have all made attempts to block book donations, which were only rolled back after public outcry. Across the United States, the agencies responsible for mass imprisonment are trying to severely limit incarcerated people’s access to the written word [...].

---

The official narrative is that donated books could contain “contraband [...]" -- the language used in Michigan [...]. This is a flimsy justification that begins to fall apart under even the lightest scrutiny. [...] [Contraband] [...] [is] not originating from nonprofit groups like the Appalachian Prison Book Project or Philadelphia’s Books Through Bars. [....] The old cartoon scenario of a hollow book with a saw or a gun inside just isn’t realistic, and its invocation is a sign that something else is going on.

That “something else,” predictably enough, is profit. With free books banned, prisoners are forced to rely on the small list of “approved vendors” chosen for them by the prison administration. These retailers directly benefit when states introduce restrictions. In Iowa, the approved sources include [B&N] and [B-a-M], some of America’s largest retail chains -- and, notably, ones which charge the full MSRP value for each book, quickly draining prisoners’ accounts. An incarcerated person with, say, $20 to spend can now only get one book, as opposed to three or four used ones; in states where prisoners make as little as 25 cents an hour for their labor, many can’t afford even that.

---

With e-books, the situation is even worse, as companies like [GTL] supply supposedly “free” tablets which actually charge their users by the minute to read.

Even public-domain classics, available on Project Gutenberg, are only available at a price under these systems -- and prisons, in turn, receive a 5% commission on every charge. All of this amounts to rampant price-gouging and profiteering on an industrial scale.

---

The rise of these private vendors has also been mirrored by the systematic dismantling of the prison library system. In the last ten years, budgets for literacy and educational resources have seen dramatic cuts, reducing funding to almost nothing [...]. In Illinois, for instance, the Department of Corrections spent just $276 on books across the entire state in 2017, down from an already meager $605 the previous year. (This means, incidentally, that each of the state’s roughly 39,000 prisoners was allotted seven-tenths of a cent.)

Oklahoma, meanwhile, has no dedicated budget for books at all, requiring prison librarians to purchase them out-of-pocket. [...]

---

These practices become all the more abhorrent when you consider the impact books can have behind bars. By now, the social science on their benefits is well-established [...]. [O]ther inmates have reported that reading meant “the difference between just giving up mentally and emotionally and making it through another day, week, or year,” countering the dehumanizing effects of their imprisonment. A book can offer a brief, irreplaceable moment of calm in hellish circumstances. [...]

[There is] a shameful pattern in American society, where many people simply don’t think about the incarcerated on a day-to-day basis, let alone sympathize with their worsening conditions. [...] One of the most common arguments for the American carceral system, and its continued existence, is that of rehabilitation. According to its defenders, a prison is not simply a place of suffering, where unwanted populations are sent to disappear. Nor is it a callous money-making machine, intended to squeeze free labor from them in a regime of functional slavery. Instead, prison rehabilitates -- so the story goes. [...] In these terms, the basic legitimacy of mass imprisonment, and its allegedly positive social role, is taken for granted. [...] But the practice of book banning exposes the lie. Not only do American prisons have little interest in education, healing, and growth, but they will actively prevent them the moment there is a dollar to be made or an ounce of power to be secured.

---

Text by: Alex Skopic. "The American Prison System's War on Reading". Protean (Protean magazine online). 29 November 2021. [Bold emphasis and some paragraph breaks/contractions added by me.]

1K notes · View notes

batboyblog · 2 months

Text

Things Biden and the Democrats did, this week. #6

Feb 16-23 2024

The EPA announced 5.8 billion dollars in funding upgrade America's water systems. 2.6 billion will go to wastewater and stormwater infrastructure, while the remaining $3.2 billion will go to drinking water infrastructure. $1 billion will go toward the first major effort to remove PFASs, forever chemicals, from American drinking water. The Administration all reiterated its plans to remove all lead pipes from America's drinking water systems, its spent 6 billion on lead pipe replacement so far.

The Department of Education announced the cancellation of $1.2 billion in student loan debt reliving 153,000 borrowers. This is the first debt cancellation through the Saving on a Valuable Education (SAVE) Plan, which erases federal student loan balances for those who originally borrowed $12,000 or less and have been making payments for at least 10 years. Since the Biden Administration's more wide ranging student loan cancellation plan was struck down by the Supreme Court in 2023 the Administration has used a patchwork of different plans and authorities to cancel $138 billion in student debt and relieve nearly 4 million borrowers, so far.

First Lady Jill Biden announced $100 million in federal funding for women’s health research. This is part of the White House Initiative on Women’s Health Research the First Lady launched last year. The First Lady outlined ways women get worse treatment outcomes because common health problems like heart attacks and cancer are often less understood in female patients.

The Biden Administration announced 500 new sanctions against Russian targets in response to the murder of Russian dissident Alexei Navalny. The sanctions will target people involved in Navalny's imprisonment as well as sanctions evaders. President Biden met with Navalny's widow Yulia and their daughter Dasha in San Francisco

The White House and Department of Agriculture announced $700 Million in new investments to benefit people in rural America. The projects will help up to a million people living in 45 states, Puerto Rico, and the Northern Mariana Islands. It includes $51.7 million to expand access to high-speed internet, and $644.2 million to help 158 rural cooperatives and utilities provide clean drinking water and sanitary wastewater systems for 578,000 people in rural areas.

The Department of Commerce signed a deal to provide $1.5 billion in upgrades and expand chip factories in New York and Vermont to boost American semiconductor manufacturing. This is the biggest investment so far under the 2022 CHIPS and Science Act

the Department of Transportation announced $1.25 billion in funding for local projects that improve roadway safety. This is part of the administration's Safe Streets and Roads for All (SS4A) program launched in 2022. So far SS4A has spent 1.7 billion dollars in 1,000 communities impacting 70% of America's population.

The EPA announced $19 million to help New Jersey buy electric school buses. Together with New Jersey's own $45 million dollar investment the state hopes to replace all its diesel buses over the next three years. The Biden Administration's investment will help electrify 5 school districts in the state. This is part of the The Clean School Bus Program which so far has replaced 2,366 buses at 372 school districts since it was enacted in 2022.

Bonus: NASA in partnership with Intuitive Machines landed a space craft, named Odysseus, on the moon, representing the first time in 50 years America has gone to the moon. NASA is preparing for astronauts to return to the moon by the end of the decade as part of the Artemis program. All under the leadership of NASA Administrator, former Democratic Senator and astronaut Bill Nelson.

#Thank Biden #Joe Biden #student loans #student loan forgiveness #climate change #climate crisis #Russia #Alexei Navalny #women's health #NASA #odysseus #moon landing #good news #Democrats #Politics #us politics

707 notes · View notes

probablyasocialecologist · 2 months

Text

As environmental, social and humanitarian crises escalate, the world can no longer afford two things: first, the costs of economic inequality; and second, the rich. Between 2020 and 2022, the world’s most affluent 1% of people captured nearly twice as much of the new global wealth created as did the other 99% of individuals put together, and in 2019 they emitted as much carbon dioxide as the poorest two-thirds of humanity. In the decade to 2022, the world’s billionaires more than doubled their wealth, to almost US$12 trillion. The evidence gathered by social epidemiologists, including us, shows that large differences in income are a powerful social stressor that is increasingly rendering societies dysfunctional. For example, bigger gaps between rich and poor are accompanied by higher rates of homicide and imprisonment. They also correspond to more infant mortality, obesity, drug abuse and COVID-19 deaths, as well as higher rates of teenage pregnancy and lower levels of child well-being, social mobility and public trust. The homicide rate in the United States — the most unequal Western democracy — is more than 11 times that in Norway. Imprisonment rates are ten times as high, and infant mortality and obesity rates twice as high.

[...]

Our work has shown that the amount spent on advertising as a proportion of gross domestic product is higher in countries with greater inequality. The well-publicized lifestyles of the rich promote standards and ways of living that others seek to emulate, triggering cascades of expenditure for holiday homes, swimming pools, travel, clothes and expensive cars. Oxfam reports that, on average, each of the richest 1% of people in the world produces 100 times the emissions of the average person in the poorest half of the world’s population. That is the scale of the injustice. As poorer countries raise their material standards, the rich will have to lower theirs.

[...]

The scientific evidence is stark that reducing inequality is a fundamental precondition for addressing the environmental, health and social crises the world is facing. It’s essential that policymakers act quickly to reverse decades of rising inequality and curb the highest incomes.

#capitalism #billionaires #inequality #sustainability #degrowth

362 notes · View notes

foone · 8 months

Text

you know what'd be a fun idea for a trek fanshow? Star Trek: Mission Logs. You just put a couple people in starfleet uniforms, and have them read off summaries of episodes in an increasingly incredulous tone. Like Drunk History: Star Trek Edition.

"so the captain says that while on the way to the inauguration ceremony, they diverted course to Vulcan as their first officer needed SO MUCH to fuck that he was a week from death, but then when they got there, he got stood up, and then fought the captain TO DEATH but he was ok?"

"so it turns out when they disappeared during the battle with the borg, they went back in time and found out that the first use of warp drive had been undone, so they had to personally help Cochrane rebuild his ship, and they were there for first contact!?"

I say "drunk history" because I imagine the people at the starfleet HQ have to drink heavily to handle the kind of reports they keep getting in from starfleet captains.

"So after a miserable first contact, the commander, doctor, first officer, and science officer disappeared, and their security officer found that the boardgame the barkeep was playing had pieces that represented them? and they were somehow mystically imprisoned inside the game!"

"so the captain says that they detected a ship trapped inside a black hole (!?) and when they tried to rescue the ship, they got damaged and then discovered they were that ship, trapped inside without realizing. Fortunately they found the crack in the event horizon and escaped." (the lieutenant then passes out after finishing the entire bottle of Bolian vodka)

"So while they were on a vital mission to locate the aliens who had blown up florida and were planning to destroy the entire planet, they found a... Cowboy Planet!?" Everyone yells "COWBOY PLANET!" and takes a shot.

"So while testing a weapons upgrade, a crewmember's case of flu was accidentally turned into an infectious de-evolutionary mutagen, causing the crewmember to turn into a spider, and the rest of the crew to undergo similar changes." "stop, stop, STOP! you made that one up, admit it!" "no, really! Their counselor turned into a frog." "ok, now I'm just not going to believe anything you say."

"so a former captain of the ship was visiting when they tried to rescue a ship flying directly into a supernova, but got 'pulled in'!? and ended up in a REVERSE TIME UNIVERSE? naturally, everyone quickly de-aged to children, and the elderly former captain had to take command" "Spelk, you're not even trying this time, that's not even remotely plausible"

"So it turns out that the terrorist who took over the paradise planet was the first officer's (half-)brother, and he uses his magic hypnosis to cause the crew to mutiny and join his mission to travel to the middle of the galaxy... and find god!?" "Did... did they find god?" "oh yeah! turns out he was evil. Don't worry, the first officer blew him up using a klingon warbird." "he blew up god?" "yeah!"

"So this is a little different, it's not a mission log... it's a repair log." "That doesn't sound like it'd be very weird..." "Oh, just you wait. So, they had to get refueled because all their dilithium had been stolen." "Stolen?" "Yes. By a man from AN ANTIMATTER DIMENSION" "So a man in an antimatter dimension discovered there were two dimensions, and his matter counterpart went insane and obsessed with killing the anti-matter version of him, but meeting outside the dimensional corridor would destroy both universes" "both... universes? So if the captain didn't stop these guys, everyone in our entire universe and some other one would be gone?" "YEP!" "did he stop them? well, I guess he did, since we're still here" "oh yeah. trapped 'em in the dimensional corridor forever." "so they're just out there in some weird in-between-the-universes place, just fighting, for all time? and that's the only reason we haven't blown up?" "YEP!" "and this all came out in the logs... because they put in for repairs?" "yeah. to replace the stolen dilithium" "are you sure the captain wasn't really into dabo or kotra and wagered the dilithium crystals on a "sure thing" that didn't pan out?"

"So this one is a report of some people (with pictures!) who don't exist." "They don't exist?" "Nope! never did. They weren't born." "So, we have pictures of them, because?" "Well, the ship crashed, and the stranded crew had kids... then they uncrashed." "uncrashed?" "yeah! so it turns out when they approached the planet, they got thrown a couple centuries back in time, and met their descendants. then when they tried to leave, the ship would crash, restarting the loop. but it didn't." "it didn't?" "yeah, one of the crew was secretly in love with another officer, but she wasn't going to survive the crash, so despite the crew attempting to recreate the crash to continue the existence of their past-future-descendants, he sabotaged the ship into not crashing" "wait, into not crashing? he did sabotage to make everything... work perfectly?" "yeah! they were trying to crash, remember? So they inadvertently didn't crash, undoing the existence of all of their descendants, so they never existed. But here's their pictures!"

"ooh, I found a really weird one! It's not a mission report, medical file, or even another repair log" "So what is it? Another weird artifact?" "no no no, I sent those off to the SCP division. This is a SPY REPORT! About a dead Romulan!" "So this report is on a spy saying that the Romulans had gotten access to some secret information about the then-upcoming Intrepid-class starships. Very minimal info, but this was found in a Romulan database when the ship was just undergoing initial design stages" "Here's the weird part: The database file with the information on the Intrepid was timestamped 2351, but Starfleet didn't even start initial design work on the Intrepid until 2364!" "So they used time travel? to get... basic information on one single starship class?" "Kinda? See, there's a P.S. on the spy file, added later when it was declassified. The leaked info in the Romulan database was discovered in 2371, but the file was updated in 2378, with an explanation." "and?" "Remember when the U.S.S. Voyager was lost?" "oh yeah, they turned out to have just been stuck on the other side of the galaxy, right?" "Yeah! And while they were there, they found a microscopic wormhole, and successfully used it to communicate back with the Romulans... but discovered it was a TIME WORMHOLE" "oh, so they were talking to the Romulans back in 2351?" "Yep! They figured that out and then decided not to transport through the wormhole, as they would have gotten home 20 years before they left, but they sent some messages back to be delivered later. They didn't come through" "why not?" "well... turns out the romulan guy (Telek R'Mor) died before Voyager ever launched, so he never got a chance to deliver the messages. but he DID inform the Tal Shiar about some design elements of the Intrepid class, years before it was launched" "that must have confused them" "yes... the report is basically just two spy agencies completely confused about what to do about the intelligence they had, and confused about why they had it"

"ok ok ok, enough artifacts, mission logs, spy reports, medical reports, repair logs, how about a really weird one: A SENSOR REPORT!" "why is that one weird?" "well, look at the timestamp. Both of them." "so one timestamp is 2372, and the other is... negative 16 billion?" "yep! This one is a scan of the big bang. And slightly before it." "... before?" "Yeah! They did a scan, and then THE BIG BANG HAPPENED, and then fortunately they got out of there before the universe fully existed, as that would exceed the ship's safety tolerances" "so... why were they at the big bang?" "well... you know the farpoint encounter, and that godly being the USS Enterprise ran into?" "oh god (uh, no pun intended)... but yeah, vaguely" "WELL it turns out there was another one of those godly beings who was suicidal and imprisoned in a comet, and-" "wait wait wait. there was a god trapped in a comet?" "yes. apparently they're infinitely powerful but weak to comets. ANYWAY. he was suicidal and trying to hide" "hide? WHAT DOES A GOD HAVE TO HIDE FROM?" "well he was hiding from the other god! the one at farpoint! that one was the one who imprisoned him. because he was suicidal." "so the god was in the comet, and the other god put him there, and someone let him out? and then he hid?" "yes! and where does a god hide?" "at the big bang?" "slightly before, but yes! and he took the ship along with him, so that's how they were able to scan the big bang. because of getting involved in a weird game of hide-and-seek between a suicidal god and a jailer-god" "so what happened? how did they get out of the whole god-war thing?" "well... usual stuff. they put the god on trial to see if he could be allowed to die, but compromised on making him human and a crew member" "so they had a former god on their crew?" "briefly. then he died." "he died? after settling for human?" "yeah, it turned out the jailer-god changed his mind and decided to rebel against god-society and started by giving the former-god some deadly poison to let him finally die, like he wanted" "well, at least that seems to have ended... well?"

"oh no, there's a follow up! see, it seems the dead god thing lead to a god-civil-war and it seems that caused a bunch of supernovae in 2373." "wait... supernovae? plural? like, outshined-the-entire-galaxy SUPERNOVAE? that must have killed billions, or trillions!" "yep! it was a massive disaster and caused a real crisis in astronomy because we had no idea why it was happening, but it suddenly stopped, thankfully. But yes, it was started because the crew accidentally freed a suicidal god from a comet." "oh god..." "literally!"

"don't worry, though... that's not the weird bit" "HOW IS THAT NOT THE WEIRD BIT?" "OK I PROMISE I'M NOT MAKING THIS UP... but after the first supernovae of the 2373 Calamity, it turns out the captain (of the ship that killed the god) discovered another god... in her bed" "her... bed?" "Yeah! it turns out the other god wanted to have a child. with her." "... that's weird but what does this have to do with the supernovae?" "he wanted to end the war, and figured the best way to do it was to get her pregnant with a god-baby"

"NOPE! That's it! I'm out. that's not real. you're making it up. We don't live in a universe where one captain caused death across the universe by sparking a god-war and then only ending it by having a baby with a god. I'm out. I have a Warp Dynamics test to study for anyway."

"wait! wait! I didn't even tell you about the time she turned into a lizard and had babies with her pilot" "NO! I DON'T CARE HOW MANY WEIRD THINGS YOU MAKE UP, THERE ARE NO LIZARD BABIES"

"no, I swear, it really happened! Look, they went infinitely fast and occupied every point in the universe!" "THAT'S NOT HOW SPEED WORKS" "it is! and it turns out going everywhere at once infinitely fast turns you into a lizard!" "*sigh* Are there any reports on unhearing that?"

I imagine they sometimes decide to go HARD MODE on the report readings, where they have to put aside all the ones with "Voyager" on them. They're just too easy.

"So I've got two reports here, and I want you to pick between them. One is the second weirdest transporter visitor log, and the other is a report on why a science officer is 30 years old... except his head, which is 495 years old!" "I'm going to cut you off there, because I know your tricks: those are both the same incident." "Yep! You got me. Am I really that predictable?" "You are. Also, second weirdest transporter visitor log? You phrased that very specifically..." "I wanted to rule out all the transporter accidents and strange misuses of the transporter, and focus solely on WHO was transported. This was the second weirdest person." "I'm not going to take the obvious bait and ask who it was... but I will ask: who is the weirdest?" "Lincoln. Abraham Lincoln. President of the United States, a predecessor to the unified Earth government... he died in 1865." "WHY WAS HE TRANSPORTED? Who was time traveling back to the 1860s? and if they were in the 1860s, why were they beaming up Presidents?" "HARDMODE: No time travel! He was transported out of open space in 2269, because he had been recreated by the local mineral beings on their lava-planet" "why... why did the lava aliens recreate a 19th century Earth president?" "To study GOOD AND EVIL!" "Like you do, I guess?" "Yeah... anyway, the recreated Lincoln got killed by a spear, thrown by either Genghis Khan or Kahless the Unforgettable" "THE FOUNDER OF THE KLINGON EMPIRE?" "Yeah! he got recreated too. And teamed up with Genghis." "No. no no no no no you made this up" "It's real! Check it out, there's a message here to the diplomatic department, asking for the proper protocol to accept a 19th century US president abort a quasi-military vessel. And there's a video clip! Hit play on that..."

"Man, video quality was terrible back in 2269" "Yeah, they were using analog tapes back then. Don't ask why. Retrotechnology studies are so complicated even without timetravel messing everything up. So yeah, apparently the answer is 'dress uniforms, security guys, whistle'" "oh yeah. You can't welcome a 19th century Earth president on board without a whistle. Where's your sense of ceremony!?"

"So I really have to go, my Intermediate Klingoneese class starts in like 5 minutes, but just tell me one thing: Who was the 2nd weirdest transporter visitor on the logs?" "Oh! Samuel Clemens." "Who?" "Mark Twain! Earth author, wrote Tom Sawyer, Huckleberry Finn?" "What? How?" "Yeah, a crew found a time portal that went back to 1893, while trying to figure out why the head of one of their crewmembers was in a cave on earth, and accidentally sent him forward to 2368, and beamed him aboard." "Did they wipe his memory afterwards or something?" "NOPE!" "So the 19th century Earth author Mark Twain, who I'm now remembering wrote a novel about time travel, didn't he?" "yep!" "So he wrote about time travel and HAD PERSONAL EXPERIENCE WITH IT?" "Yeah! thanks to snake aliens, eating humans in the past"

"Yeah I'm gonna go ask my teacher how they say 'You deserve to die for your lies' on Qo'noS" "I think it's... Hegh nep qotlh SoH? maybe 'urmang instead of nep?" "I'M OUT, petaQ!"

(a transcript of a twitter thread I made from back in July 2020)

#star trek #star trek voyager #star trek the next generation #star trek deep space 9 #star trek enterprise

784 notes · View notes